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BOWED a lily by the fountain,
Bowed in silent grief;
Mirrored in the placid waters
Vainly sought relief.
Softly o'er her pallid petals
Sighed the pitying breeze;
Touched her with soft, warm caresses,
Yearned to give her ease.
When my false love sits, sad-weeping,
By the moaning sea,
Do her tear-drops fall for my sake?
Does she weep for me?
B.
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